6       You unpredictable wonderful little girl of fifty odd years, what is all this sudden lamentation and shedding of tears and self-doubting? The Divine Mother is always with you and has accepted you and given you not only good relatives and friends, dear and near ones, but also an elder soul-brother out of the blue who though physically far is ever close to you inwardly and never forgets you even when he delays writing letters. You must hold your soul in peace. We are devotees of Sri Aurobindo who said that his Yoga is founded in equanimity, a wide solid calm, which can sustain all the extraordinary experiences which he can give to his children. If there is no tranqui

  Act II   The Palace in Antioch.   Scene 1   A hall in the Palace. Cleone, Phayllus.   PHAYLLUS Worry the conscience of the Queen to death Like the good bitch thou art. If this goes well, I may sit unobserved on Syria's throne.   CLEONE Do not forget me.   PHAYLLUS Do not forget thyself, Then how shall I forget thee?   CLEONE I shall remember.   PHAYLLUS If for a game you were the queen, Cleone, And I your minister, how would you start Your play of reigning?   CLEONE I would have many perfect tortures made To hurt the Parthian with, for every nerve

  Incomplete and Fragmentary Plays   1891 ­ 1915 The Witch of Ilni   A dream of the woodlands   Characters   CORILLO, prince of Ilni. VALENTINE, a courtier. MELANDER, a sylvan poet. FORESTERS, COURTIERS.   ALACIEL, the witch of Ilni. GUENDOLEN, her sister. GIRLS OF THE FOREST. Act I   Scene 1   The woodlands of Ilni. Girls and youths dancing.   Song   Under the darkling tree Who danceth with thee, Sister say? His hair is the sweet sunlight, His eyes a starry night In May.   Under the leaf-wrought screen Who crowns thee his queen Kissing thee? His lips are a

      A page of Vasavadutta   Eric A Dramatic Romance   Characters   ERIC SWEGN GUNTHAR HARDICNUT RAGNAR HARALD   ASLAUG HERTHA   Act I Eric's Palace at Yara. Scene 1 ERIC Eric of Norway, first whom these cold fiords, Deep havens of disunion, from their jagged And fissured crevices at last obey, The monarch of a thousand Vikings! Yes, But how long shall that monarchy endure Which only on the swiftness of a sword Has taken its restless seat? Strength's iron hound Pitilessly bright behind his panting prey Can guard for life's short splendour w

  Act III   Scene 1   The women's apartments of the Palace. Andromeda, Diomede.   ANDROMEDA All's ready, let us go.   DIOMEDE Andromeda, My little mistress whom I love, let me Beseech you by that love, do not attempt it. Oh, this is no such pretty wilfulness As all men love to smile at and to punish With tenderness and chidings. It is a crime Full of impiety, a deed of danger That venturous and iron spirits would be aghast To dream of. You think because you are a child, You will be pardoned, because you are a princess No hand will dare to punish you. You do not know Men's hearts. They will not pause t

Incomplete and Fragmentary Stories   1891 ­ 1912     Fictional Jottings Mrs Bolton was one of those sharp and rancid women whose .. very aspect gives a cultured man the toothache; it recalls vividly the taste of sour grapes. There had perhaps been a time when she was not elderly, but the boldest flight of metaphor would never have imaged her as young. The slanders of her enemies drew a frightful picture of the low-class Gorgon: they compared her chin to a penknife, her lips to a pair of icicles: her smile was a perpetual reminder of vinegar, her voice was like frost against the teeth. The sobriety of history merely rec

A DIAMOND IS BURNING UPWARD A diamond is burning upward In the roofless chamber walled By the ivory mind; An orb entranced glows Where earth-storm never blows— But the two wide eyes are blind To its virgin soar behind Their ruby and emerald. The one pure bird finds rest In the crescent moon of a nest Which infinite boughs upbear.... Flung out on phantom air In a colour-to-colour race Yet never ending their quest, The two birds dream they fly Though fixed in the narrow sky Of a futile human face. Sri Aurobindo's Comment "It sounds very surrealistic. Images and poetr

INNERMOST Each form a dancer whose pure naked sheen Mirrors serenity, a moving sleep White-echoed out of some mysterious deep Where fade life's clamouring red and blue and green— The priestesses of virgin reverie Sway through the cavern heart of consciousness. A marble rapture fronting frozenly The cry of mortal hunger and distress, A love superb moulded to rocks of flame, A ring of rhythmic statues worship-hewn From the pale vistas of a perfect moon— They guard with silences the unbreathable Name. Sri Aurobindo's Comment "Very fine throughout. It is a combined inspiration, Illumined Mind wi

NE PLUS ULTRA A madrigal to enchant her—and no more? With the brief beauty of her face—drunk, blind To the inexhaustible vastnesses that lure The song-impetuous mind? Is the keen voice of tuneful ecstasy To be denied its winged omnipotence, Its ancient kinship to immensity And the swift suns? When mystic grandeurs urge him from behind, When all creation is a rapturous wind Driving him towards an ever-limitless goal, Can such pale moments crown the poet's soul? Shall he—born nomad of the infinite heart! Time-tamer! star-struck debauchee of light! Warrior who hurls his spirit like a dart Across the

THE HIERARCHY OF BEING Abysmal shadow of the summit-soul— Self-blinding grope toward the Sorrowless— Trance-core of labyrinthine outwardness— Visage of gloom with flowering aureole. Streak on gold streak wounding the illusive night— Miraculous monarchy of eagled gaze— Eternal truth's time-measuring sun-blaze— Lonely omnipotence locked in self-light. Sri Aurobindo's Comment "I can hardly say—it is quite clear to me, but I don't know what would happen to the ordinary reader. It is a fine poem, the last stanza remarkable." * (Now I pick up the overhead theme at its culmination, the supreme plane whose f